


C is for Coy

by zebraljb



Series: The Alphabet Cycle [3]
Category: Boondock Saints RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-01
Updated: 2012-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 22:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norman helps Sean find something, and they find each other along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	C is for Coy

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a series of shorts based on one-word prompts.

C IS FOR COY  
www.dictionary.com definition: Affectedly and usually flirtatiously shy or modest

“Aw, fuck.” Sean slapped his hand on his forehead. “I forgot something. I have to go back to the set.”

“Are you serious?” Norman stared at Sean, trying to focus. Tonight was yet another night that they had spent in a bar, drinking, shooting the breeze, and basically just flirting like hell with each other. Troy Duffy had suggested that they spend time together, get to know each other. They needed to act as if they had come out of the womb together and had known each other inside and out their entire lives. Norman was sure that Troy hadn’t meant for them to end up as anything more than friends, but he, for one, was going to enjoy these “forced” nights of drinking, smoking and talking. It gave him an excuse to stare at his Greek God of a co-star. ALL night long.

“Yeah.” Sean leaned against a no parking sign, his long fingers weaving around the metal. “I left my bag there.”

“Oh, that fucking bag.” Norman shook his head. “You mean your man-purse.”

“It is NOT a purse.” Sean pulled out his wallet and slowly counted his money. Due to the large number of beers he had put away, he needed to count five times before he got a total that matched twice. “I think I have enough to taxi out there and back home.”

“It’s a purse, Sean. You’re thirty-three years old. Be a man and admit it,” Norman teased, shoving his hands in his back pockets.

“It’s a tote, and don’t make me kick your ass,” Sean warned. He raised a hand to flag a cab.

“Couldn’t you just pick it up tomorrow?” Norman didn’t want the night to end, though he knew it was inevitable. He would have been happy just standing outside the bar and talking for another hour or two or five. They didn’t have to be on-set the next day.

“I don’t feel comfortable letting it lay around. It has my writing and stuff in it,” Sean said almost nervously. “If someone found it, that’d kill me.”

“Gotcha.” Norman nodded. He understood. Sean wrote music that he never showed to anyone, just like Norman did sketches and drawings that never saw the outside of his apartment. He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. The sound was loud and unnecessary in the late night, but it worked.

“You’re like magic,” Sean said with a grin as the dirty yellow cab pulled to a stop.

“Hey, lemme go with you,” Norman said suddenly. “You never know what you might fall over on-set. That is, if you can even get on the lot.”

“I have ways, Mr. Reedus,” Sean said mysteriously, then giggled. Norman had to smile in return. No one could keep from smiling when faced with the patented Flanery Eye-Crinkling Grin. “Okay. C’mon.”

Norman leaned against the cold window of the cab and tried not to think about just how close Sean was. Their knees occasionally bumped together, and it took everything he had not to find excuses to MAKE them touch. He knew that HE was the one who needed to grow up and be a man. Having a crush on a male co-star was not the wisest thing he had ever done. But it was unable to be helped.

Sean was thankful that Norman was looking out the window. His face was brought into focus when they drove under a particularly bright streetlight, but Sean didn’t need help. He knew that face like he knew his own. He knew every dimple, every mole, almost every eyelash. That face dominated his thoughts, and it made the filming both a blessing and a curse all at once. He wondered for the hundredth time if Duffy would really mind if Connor lusted after Murphy and ravaged him on Rocco’s table.

Norman said something, and Sean snapped back into the present. “M’sorry, what did you say, Norm?”

“I asked if you knew where you left it,” Norman said, turning to face Sean.

“I think it’s in the prop room,” Sean said thoughtfully. “I turned my gun in, and already was on my way out the door when I did it.”

“Okay.” Norman bit at his thumb. “Uh, how are we getting in?”

“You’re gonna boost me up to the window. The one by the door? It has a broken hinge.”

“And you know this HOW?” Norman asked in a teasing tone. “Sneak in there to get lucky, did you?”

“I wish,” Sean said, and that much was true. He would give ANYTHING to have the courage to just grab Norman by the hand and sneak him away for a few moments. Of course, he didn’t even know if Norman would WANT to be stolen away. “I just noticed it the one day, that’s all.”

“And why am I boosting YOU up?” Norman continued as the cab pulled up at the site where they were currently doing most of their filming.

“Because you’re stronger than I am,” Sean said simply. He paid the driver and got out.

Norman stared after him, grateful that Sean couldn’t see him blushing. He handed the driver an extra tip for having to drive them so far out of town, and hurried after Sean. “This place is fucking creepy in the dark.”

“Aye,” Sean answered. Norman smiled. Now and then Sean couldn’t help but slip into Connor, and it only made him hotter in Norman’s mind.

They crept through the lot, finally reaching the small warehouse that held the props, costumes and technical equipment. “This is it?” Norman squinted up at the window about nine feet off the ground. “That’s a tiny window.”

“Are you saying I’m fat?” Sean shrugged out of his coat and shivered.

“Hardly,” Norman snorted. Sean looked at him and he blushed again. “I mean, if we’re talking about the two of us, you’re definitely NOT fat.”

“Either are you,” Sean retorted. “Okay. You ready?”

“Thank God no one’s here to see this,” Norman grumbled, but he bent down and cupped his hands together. “You’re lucky I love you, Flanery.”

Sean stepped into Norman’s hands just as he spoke, and he almost lost his balance. He regained it just in time, and lightly touched Norman’s shoulders before standing straight up. “Do it quick. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Norman wobbled a bit, then lifted until Sean was able to put a foot on his shoulder. He stared at the cement wall in front of him, ordering his eyes NOT to move up to the crotch that was at all but eye level. “Can you reach?” His hands grasped Sean’s strong calves and held him steady.

“Yeah.” Norman heard the window creak open, and felt Sean lift himself through the window. “Go to the door!” Sean yelled.

Norman made sure Sean’s feet were through the window before he hurried to the black door, grabbing Sean’s coat along the way. The door swung open, and Sean smiled broadly at him. Norman blinked at the light from within. “Is that a cut?”

“Oh, yeah.” Sean ran a knuckle over his cheek. “There was a fucking metal shelf by the window. Caught my face on it.” He took his coat from Norman. “Thanks.”

“Jesus, Sean.” Norman ran a thumb over Sean’s cheek, then pulled it back. “I mean, you could have tetanus or something.”

“Had my shots just before filming,” Sean promised. “That’ll do.” He ducked away, embarrassed. “Okay, so I think I was…” He went in search of his bag.

Norman walked through the small room, picking up props and playing with them while he waited. He ignored the guns; they were old hat by now. He picked up the phone and pretended to dial. “Hey, Ma…thought I should call ya,” he said loudly in Murphy’s voice. “Connor’s turned into a fuckin’ dick, Ma…would ya miss him much if I killed him?”

“You’re an ass,” Sean said from around a corner. He poked his head around and grinned. “Murphy’d never kill Connor. He loves him too much.”

“Whatever,” Norman grunted. “Find that thing yet?”

“Yes.” Sean put the bag on a table. “Having fun?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” Norman picked up the rope and ran it through his fingers, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t even fucking start,” Sean warned. He picked up a ball of fur with fake blood on it and shuddered. “Bet that’s the cat.”

“Gross.” Norman picked up the feather boa and grinned. He mentally thanked the beer for giving him the courage to walk over to Sean and drape the boa around his neck. “There. Aren’t you pretty?”

Sean’s smile faded away, and he pulled the boa from his body. “Far from it.”

Norman instantly sensed that he had done something wrong, but he wasn’t sure what. “M’sorry. I was just joking.”

“It’s nothing you did.” Sean heaved a sigh. “Young Indy was, what, six or seven years ago, and I still feel like a fucking pin-up sometimes.” He hopped up on the table. “I know that no matter how I try, I’ll never be able to live some of that down.”

“You were a kid then. And it got your name out there, didn’t it?” Norman shyly touched Sean’s arm. “No one around here thinks of you as just a pin-up. I can fucking assure you of that.”

Sean smiled in thanks. “I know. But I think of it sometimes. I recorded probably the worst album in music history, all because kids in Japan liked pretty American boys with blue eyes.”

“Hey, at least you can add “recording artist” to your resume,” Norman pointed out. “No reason anyone needs to know how bad it was.”

“You were supposed to tell me it wasn’t that bad,” Sean said with a smile.

“Oh, yeah. Well, um…” Norman stammered.

“I’m kidding.” Sean lightly punched Norman in the shoulder. “Thanks, Norm. For coming out here, and for listening to me ramble.”

“You’re not rambling.” Norman bit at his finger. “And I never mind listening to you. I mean, talking to you.”

Sean slowly wrapped the boa around Norman’s neck. “This is MUCH prettier.”

“I’m not pretty.” Norman licked his lips and looked at Sean. It would be so easy to just lean forward and kiss Sean, to just do what he’d been dreaming of for days.

Sean watched the red tongue flicker out over Norman’s lips and almost whimpered. His hands lingered on the ends of the boa, inches away from touching Norman’s chest. “No,” he said softly. His hands moved as if they weren’t in contact with his brain. He tugged at the boa, pulling Norman closer. “You’re not pretty. You’re one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re drunk,” Norman whispered, cursing himself as soon as he did so.

“Not that drunk.” One of Sean’s hands moved up behind Norman’s neck. “But if it will keep you from punching me right now, m’drunk off my ass.”

Norman grinned, relief washing over me. “Fuck, no, I’m not gonna punch you. Unless you don’t kiss me right the fuck now.”

Sean smiled and pulled him forward into a long, passionate kiss. Norman’s hands clutched at Sean’s shoulders as Sean’s hand wove up into his hair. Sean’s long legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in as close as possible. Norman lightly sucked at Sean’s bottom lip and Sean moaned. When they pulled apart, Sean leaned his forehead against Norman’s. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages now.”

“Me, too,” Norman said softly. “But I was afraid…”

“M’self as well,” Sean said, and Norman grinned.

“Do you know how sexy you are when you randomly channel Connor?”

“I’ll have to remember that.” Sean pulled back and looked at Norman. He smiled at Norman’s flushed cheeks, which were set off by the feathers in the boa. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Yes,” Norman said. He took off the boa and made sure it was back in its place. He looked at Sean. “We won’t be able to get a cab…”

“Your place is, what, about twenty blocks from here?” Sean said. He reached over and took Norman’s hand. “Up for a walk?”

 

Norman looked down at his hand in Sean’s. “Definitely.”  
End - C


End file.
